Woman and Puppet 9

Woman and Puppet 9

CHAPTER III

 

 

Lêda hoped that the following night the Swan would come back to her,

and she waited for it in the reeds by the river-side near the blue egg

which was born of their miraculous union.

 

The Eurotas was covered with swans, but her Swan was not among them.

She would have recognized it from a thousand, and even with her eyes

shut would have perceived its approach. But it was very certain that

the one was no longer there.

 

Then she took off her garland of water-lily leaves, dropped it into the

stream, let down her hair and began to weep.

 

When after a time she dried her eyes a great Satyr was near her though

she had not heard his approach.

 

Now she was no longer like Phœbe. She had lost her virginity. The

satyrs were no longer afraid of her.

 

She leapt to her feet and drew back in affright.

 

The Satyr gently said to her: “Who are you?”

 

“I am Lêda,” she replied.

 

He was silent for a moment and then went on--

 

“Why are you different from the other nymphs? Why are you blue like the

water and the night?”

 

“I do not know.”

 

He looked at her in great astonishment.

 

“What are you doing here all alone?”

 

“I am waiting for the Swan.”

 

She was looking at the river. “What Swan?” he asked.

 

“The Swan. I did not call it, I did not see it, but it appeared. I was

so surprised. I will tell you.”

 

She told him what had happened and parted the reeds to show him the

blue egg.

 

The Satyr understood. He began to laugh and gave her vulgar

explanations, which she stopped by putting her hand over his mouth;

then she cried--

 

“I do not wish to know. I will not know. Oh, you have told me. Oh! it

is frightful! Now I shall not be able to love the Swan, and I shall die

of unhappiness.”

 

He seized her by the arm in his passion.

 

“Do not touch me!” she cried through her tears. “Oh! how happy was I

this morning! I did not realize how happy I was! Now if it return I

shall not love it. Now you have told me! Ah! how wicked you are!”

 

He embraced her and caressed her hair.

 

“Oh, no! no! no!” she cried. “Do not do that! Oh if the Swan were to

come back! Alas! alas! all is ended.”

 

She stood with staring eyes and open mouth without weeping but with

hands trembling with fear.

 

“I would like to die. I do not even know whether I am mortal. I would

like to die in the water, but I fear the naiads, lest they make me join

them. Oh! what have I done!”

 

She sobbed bitterly in his arms. But a serious voice spake before her,

and when she opened her eyes she saw the river god crowned with green

leaves rising half out of the water and leaning upon a staff of light

wood.

 

He said--

 

“You are quite right. But you have loved the symbol of all that is

light and glorious, and you have been united to it.

 

“Of the symbol is born the symbol, and of the symbol will be born

Beauty. It is in the blue egg which you have seen. Since the beginning

of the world it has been called Helen; and the last man of all shall

know of her existence.

 

“You were full of love because you were ignorant. For that let the

blessed darkness be praised.

 

“But you are a woman, too, and bear in you the obscure being who would

be simply himself, whose father has not foreseen him, and whose son

does not know him. I will take the germ in my waters. It shall remain

in obscurity.

 

“You were full of hatred because you learned the truth. I will make you

forget it. For that let the blessed darkness be praised.”

 

She did not understand what the God had said, but she thanked him with

tears.

 

She entered the bed of the river to purify herself from the Satyr, and

when she returned to the bank she had lost every remembrance of her

sorrow and her joy.

 

* * * * *

 

Melandryon spake no more. The women were all silent. But Rhea asked--

 

“What of Kaftor and Polydeukes? You have told us nothing of them. They

were the brothers of Helen.”

 

“No, that is not true, they are not interesting. Helen alone was a

child of the Swan.”

 

“Why, too, do you say that the Swan wounded her with its beak? That is

not in the legend, nor is it likely. Then why do you say that Lêda was

blue like water in the night? You have a reason for saying it.”

 

“Did you not hear the words of the River. Symbols must never be

explained. They must not be understood. Have faith. Ah! do not doubt.

The maker of the symbol has concealed a truth in it, but he need not

explain it or what would be the use of the reader of symbols.

 

“One must not tear aside ceremonies, for they only conceal the

invisible. We know that in these trees adorable nymphs are enclosed,

and yet when the wood-cutter fells the trees they are dead. We know

that behind us are dancing satyrs and divine nakedness but we need not

turn round, for if we do all will have disappeared.

 

“The undulating reflection of the springs is actually the naiad. The

buck standing in the midst of the does is the reality of the Satyr. One

or other of you all is Aphrodite in reality. But we must not know it,

we must not seek to find it out. Such is the condition of love and joy.

Praise be to the blessed darkness for it.”

 

 

 

 

IMMORTAL LOVE

 

(_From “Aphrodite”_)

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER I

 

THE GARDENS OF THE GODDESS

 

 

The temple of Aphrodite-Astarte stood outside the gates of the city in

an immense domain full of flowers and shadows, where the waters of the

Nile flowed through seven aqueducts and maintained at all seasons a

state of wonderful fertility.

 

This forest of flowers on the sea-shore, these deep streams, these

lakes and shady meadows had been created in the desert by Ptolemy I.

Since that time the sycamores planted by his orders had become giants;

through the fertilizing influence of the waters the lawns had grown

into meadows; the ponds had become enlarged into lakes; Nature had

turned a park into a country.

 

The gardens were more than a valley, more than a country, more than a

land; they were a complete world enclosed within walls of stone, and

ruled by a Goddess who was the soul and centre of this universe. All

around this domain arose a circular terrace. Its boundary was not a

wall, it was a colossal city, consisting of fourteen hundred houses. A

like number of courtesans dwelt in this holy city and represented in

this spot alone seventy different races.

 

These sacred houses were uniform in design, and had upon each door the

courtesan’s name who dwelt there.

 

Upon each side of the door were two rooms without walls upon the side

next to the gardens. The room to the right was where the courtesan

arrayed in all her finery sat to await the arrival of her visitors. The

room on the left was at the disposal of those who wished to pass the

night in the open air without sleeping on the grass.

 

On opening the door a passage gave entrance to a vast courtyard paved

with marble, the middle of which was adorned by an oval basin. A

peristyle provided the shade around this great square of light, and

formed a zone of coolness for the entrance to the seven rooms of the

house. At the back stood the altar which was of red granite.

 

Every woman had brought from her own country a little image of the

Goddess, and as it stood there upon the altar of the house it was

worshipped by each one in her own tongue. Lakmî Ashtoreth, Venus,

Iskhtar, Freia, Mylitta, and Cypris were some of the holy names of

their Divinity of Pleasure. Some worshipped the divinity in the

symbolical shapes of a sea pebble, a conical stone, or a large prickly

shell. In many of the houses there was upon a wooden stand a rough

statuette with thin arms, large breasts, and huge thighs. They placed

a myrtle branch at the feet of the idol, strewed the altar with

rose-leaves, and burnt a grain of incense for each prayer which was

granted. The Goddess was the confidante of all their sorrows, the

witness of all their labours, and the supposed cause of all their

pleasure. At the courtesan’s death the image was placed in her fragile

coffin as a guardian of her tomb.

 

The most beautiful of these girls came from the kingdoms of Asia. Every

year vessels bearing to Alexandria gifts from tributaries or allies

landed besides their cargoes a hundred virgins chosen by the priests

for the service of the sacred garden. They came from Mysia, Crete,

Phrygia, Babylon, and the banks of the Ganges, and there were also

Jewesses among them. Some were fair of skin with impassive faces and

inflexible breasts; others were dark as the earth after rain, and had

gold rings through their noses, and dark hair hanging down upon their

shoulders. Some came from still more distant lands; they were slender,

quiet little creatures, whose language no one understood and who

looked like yellow monkeys. Their eyes were long, and their straight

black hair was grotesquely arranged. These girls spent the whole of

their lives like lost and frightened animals. They knew the gestures

of love but declined to kiss upon the mouth. They amused themselves by playing childish games.